Part of Him
by riceandchopstixs
Summary: Judge Turpin observes Johanna through lust and thinks deeply, and begins to see her in a slightly new light.


The judge stole a quick glance for the hundredth time that day, at his pretty, young ward

**A/N: Umm, yeah just sort of a pointless ramble. Not a whole lot of dialogue and nothing with a whole huge plot. Just randomness. I've been working on it for the past week, or two, I think. Like a paragraph or two a day. lol. So yeah, enjoy.**

Disclaimer: Surprise, I don't own it.

The judge stole a quick glance for the hundredth time that day, at his pretty, young ward. "Soon to be wife", he thought to himself, as the Beadle, as if reading his mind, his very thoughts at the moment, gave him a sly smirk.

Johanna had been called down to dine with the judge. One of the very few times she was allowed to leave that horrid room. The very room she'd known since birth, she guessed. Never once in her life had she remembered being out of this house, and rarely out of her room. Perhaps six or seven times a year she was called down to attend one of Turpin's evening balls or perhaps for dinner with him. But that was it.

She did notice, however, that she had been called down more frequently during the past few years. He'd bought her increasingly low cut dresses did not allow her to ever tie her hair in ribbons anymore. He said that it "greatly pleasured" him to see her "scrumptious golden tresses" flowing about.

After saying that, he always seemed to murmur more and more recently something along the lines of "much like your mothers." As much as she wanted to, Johanna desperately kept herself from questioning him.

She did not know much of her mother. Nothing, really. She hadn't even known what a mother was until a few years before. She had read of them in storybooks and heard of them in fairytales as a child, but did not realize that everyone had one until Judge Turpin began taking that rather disturbing interest in her, which was an abrupt twist in their moderate father/daughter relationship.

A father too, although she hadn't been too curious about fathers, as Turpin had been a father figure to her up until recently.

There was a knock at Johanna's door. One of the maids rushed in.

"Judge Turpin has been awaitin' your company since this morn' Miss Johanna." She explained.

"You get dressed and head on down now. Said he needs to spend some time with you, he did. Fears you're growin' away from 'im. Now hurry." Said the maid firmly, leaving the room.

Johanna did as she was told, making sure to keep her hair down the way, as there was no point in putting it up, seeing as she would have to take it down by the times she reached the sunroom.

"Where is that girl? I called for her half an hour ago.." Judge Turpin said angrily, with slight anxiety in his voice.

"She's on her merry way, I'm sure. No worries mi'lord. " said the Beadle, spinning in place attempting to inhale his own lovely scent, that he happened to be quite fond of.

"Here she comes." He said. "Out."

"As you wish mi'lord." Said the Beadle, rising his hat slightly above his greasy hair and smiling smugly.

Johanna walked into the Judges library, which was covered in vulgar pictures and words from murals on the walls to titles on the book. She now understood why he had strictly forbade this room, let alone more than three fourths of his home for all those years.

"You called me..sir?" Johanna asked coyly from behind the door, which she ran back behind thinking there was some mistake.

"Ahh, Johanna, sit, sit. We have much to talk about. Firstly, let me have a look at you my dear."

Judge Turpin had began to notice that she was growing into a beautiful young woman and not the little girl he had raised.

Johanna sat as still as possible in the huge leather cushion chair, trying not to sink in. She also tried to hold her breath, for the room was so quiet, it seemed as though every breath she took could be echoed throughout the manor. Even slow breaths didn't do her justice.

Turpin eyed her starting with her hair. Johanna's hair, a beautiful fair wheat color, looked as if it was perfectly molded into place, spun like silk. Judge Turpin knew immediately where that came from, of course. The beautiful Lucy Barker, of course! He could never forget.

It was the exact same hair. He reached up to run a large hand through Johanna's long, golden tresses. Yes, it was the same. It almost seemed like the same woman.

He could've sworn that when he looked into her eyes. Her large, bold, beautiful, blue eyes. Johanna shifted uneasily in her seat. This was the man who, all her life up until now, gave her loving looks. One's that a father would give to his children.

She could barely recognize this look now. As much as she hated to even consider it, was the look in his eyes..lust?

It didn't matter though. He was more curious about here eyes than she was about his. He always knew they were beautiful, but when did they get this lovely? Then, of course, they were Lucy Barkers.

Judge Turpin was elated that Johanna looked much like her mother. It was as if getting a second chance with Lucy. Of course this time, he would have to be much more careful, as in not allowing her to escape like 'the last one' did. But he had been successfully doing so for the past fifteen years.

He further examined her face, taking in the intricately beautiful features of her nose and ears. He looked upon her lips, small and soft, looking very much as if it was carefully painted upon her face, her pale skin. Her soft jaw line joining close to her neck. Her beautiful swan-like neck. Face like that of a porcelain doll. This young woman was definitely growing into Lucy Barker.

Turpin let out a soft chuckle at how things were going better than he had initially planned. _Much_ better. Every since he had sent that stupid boy away. Benjamin Barker. What a fool, he was. Frolicking through town with Lucy on his arm, catching her eye. It tore Turpin apart when he heard of the wedding. Even more so when he heard Lucy was to have a child soon and Barker was set to open his own tonsorial parlor on Fleet Street.

It occurred to him that in his place in society, he had rights. Certain rights, to do certain things, without consequence or reason. At least for himself. He, a judge, a position, _status_, in society so high, could easily take care of the simple to-be/newcomer of a barber, Benjamin Barker. The man that wouldn't even raise his voice or a finger to a fly.

Before he knew it, he effortlessly rid the barber from London, forever. In prison, on the other side of the world. In the heat, where he would be forced to do labor of all sorts, suffer lashings, and suffer the pain of being away from his family. To stay there. To stay there his entire life, and rot there. Rot there until he would inadvertently be thrown, tossed, _fed_ to the realm of hell. For deep down, Judge Turpin knew that everything that Benjamin Barker ever did, would only be acknowledged by the gates of heaven.

But he was sure that that would change. No man could stand that penitentiary for more than a couple of years. Full grown, _convicted_ men, that was. Surely the young, innocent Benjamin Barker would decease on the voyage there, at the very most wind up dying before even being assigned to do any labor, dying on the first day in his filthy jail cell. Perhaps if he was lucky one of his cell mates may have smuggled some poison.

All intended was to subtract Benjamin Barker, and have Lucy. Fate happened to favor him, and not only was Benjamin Barker subtracted from his life, not one, but _two_ Lucy's were added. One after another.

Johanna's figure was very fine for her age. Her long pale arms folded over after a few moments. She put her hands in her lap. Her perfect hands, very delicate, and slim, were resting in her lap. They were the most beautiful hands Turpin had ever seen.

"Beautiful hands.." Turpin whispered absent-mindedly, forgetting that Johanna had ears. Perfect to be kissed, were Johanna's hands. Her long fingers, perfect for many talents. An artists hands. They weren't Lucy's however.

Both pale and small, were the Barker women's hands. The only difference was Johanna had some build; some structure of some sort. It was as if only she new the exact path they would take and what movement they would make before she made them.

He noticed she was wonderful artist when he watched her. She would tie intricate bows, create beautiful sketches and painting, never missed a thread with her needlework. While Lucy's hands were carefree, allowing them to go as they pleased.

No, there was only one side Johanna could have possibly inherited that trait. That lovely, horrible trait which he hated yet loved. He had always thought of Johanna merely as Lucy's child, not ever even nearing the method for Johanna existence, of how she came to be.

How any man, let alone himself, could be so dense was a mystery to him. Johanna had two parents. Of course, that was the reason he sent one of them away! Was he losing his mind? Or had he lost it and was just gaining it back?

His eyes rapidly transformed from a sheer cloud of lust, to darkening as a result of anger or hate, it seemed. He was yearning for a woman who was part of Benjamin Barker, the man he hated. His own flesh and blood.

He was angry for her even being in relation to him, whether she was aware or not. It was the horrible truth for him. He wanted to hate her, to kill her, for a _part_ of her had made life so unfair for him. Unfair and humiliating.

Lucy Barkers repulsion for him was indeed humiliating, especially for a man of his 'class.' He was angry at the father of this girl and he wanted to take it out on her since she was second best to Benjamin Barker and he felt a need to cause harm to him _now_.

Yet, here he was lusting after the mans daughter. So beautiful, but an element of the man he hated.

His right hand caught her hair and twisted it, Johanna crying out in pain. In his other hand he caught her wrist.

"Do you know, of your origin girl?" he snarled. "_Do you?!_ Is there ever any reminiscence of where your roots are…? Do you remember anything besides your damned room and the corridors of this house?!"

"N-no sir..." said an obviously shaken Johanna, trembling from the pain in her scalp and wrist.

Turpin let a small smirk form. "Good."

His smirk turned back into a frown, eyes suddenly raging with fire in it pits. "Now get out you daft child." He snapped in a sudden rush. "I must..think. I shall be sure not to allow my thoughts to dwell too far off.." he said rather quietly.

_Barker_.


End file.
